A Soul to Keep: One Shot
by Raend
Summary: Sam is going to die. He knows it. Logic is telling him that his soul will do no good. That is why he keeps screaming as death is wrongfully looking at him in the face. What happens to a man who has lost his ticket to heaven and is unwelcomed in hell?


A Soul to Keep: One shot Version

Summary: Sam is going to die. He knows it. Logic is telling him that his soul will do no good. That is why he keeps screaming as Death is wrongfully looking at him in the face. What happens to a man who has lost his ticket to heaven and is unwelcomed in hell?

Spoilers: End of Season 5 and Season 6 up to Episode 11

Characters: Sam and ? (not OC)

Warnings: Death fiction and slightly disturbing. No betta, message me if you want to be one.

Setting: After Season 6, Episode 11 when Death gave Sam his soul back.

* * *

"Dean?" Sam choked out looking up from the bed which he was tied to. He didn't see his brother, nor was he even sure that he was even in the room. It was a helpless cry into the empty safe room. Everything was still fuzzy and incoherent. The gray walls moved like the tides of the ocean unbalancing his equilibrium. Logic told him that he was not underwater or floating on a boat inside Bobby's safe room. He clenched his eyes together, fighting back against the waves.

"Sam?" a voice called out to him beckoning his attention. What had he done this time. Demon blood? No, he didn't feel the anger and aggression that came with the need for blood. He was calm and floating. Yeah floating, that was what the waves felt like. Perhaps on a cloud, but the bed was too hard, and he was still chained to the bed, so that wasn't right either.

"Samuel." a new voice repeated with a stern tone. Two fingers pressed against his forehead, instantly dismissing the clam. His eyes opened as he shot up into a sitting position on the bed the chains that attached him to the bed unexciting. He looked around the room, which was not Bobby's safe room, but rather an eloquent living room consisting of two chairs, a glass coffee table, and a couch which he now sat upon.

"Acid," he thought to himself, "I must be on some bad acid trip." Not that he had ever done acid, or even wanted to try acid. However, there was still that itch in the back of his mind which told him that he was in the reality.

"Sammy." the same voice called. He knew this voice, but the tone was foreign. He stood as his attention turned towards the noise while confusion and disbelief flooded his emotions. And there he stood, just as he remembered him.

"Dad?" It was him. No doubt about it. The dark jacket, clean cut stubble, and sideburns that only his father could pull off were tall tale signs that the man before him was his father.

John cautiously walked towards his son, knowing that he trained him well. He could see the flicker of disbelief behind his youngest son's emotions and the automatic search for anything to prove his sight wrong.

"Sammy, it's me." The rough, deep baritone of his voice sounded. "I know son, but here ain't the place to check. You can't check." He paused for a moment to let the information sink in. "But Sammy, Trust me, it's me."

They both stood there as John watched his son's belief flow out of his eyes, as it turned into anger and suspicion. He knew that Sam had changed since his death, knew that his youngest had gone through the worst out of all three of the Winchesters, but never would have imagined the pure, cold hearted disbelief so unlike the hopeful disbelief from a few moments ago.

"No," Sam replied, low and dark. "I won't," he huffed out an amused sigh, "I can't."

"Sam." John tried to reach out towards his son, knowing that he was asking for the opposite than he would have before his death. In life, even if his sons were sure that he was their father, he still demanded that his sons completed the drill to ensure the fact. He had drilled that into both his sons memory to ensure their safety. But this time was different. Sam had doubt and John was asking him to dismiss his own teachings.

"When you were seven, -" John tried the normal way that humans identified themselves.

"Ha! I'm – You - " Sam stumbled for words, the right phrase, obviously flustered. "I'm not stupid" were the only words which Sam could find. "You could know that, even if you weren't my father."

Sam was right. Shapeshifter to demon, anything could take on his form and claim to be himself and still have his memories. Frustration turned into anger as he was losing hope in convincing his son. If only he kept his trap shut, then this probably would be going better.

"Damnit Sam." John fumed as he released his anger upon the wall behind him. He was suppose to be more composed than this. Death was suppose to bring composure. "Fine then Sam. Lets say I'm a part of your 'Acid trip'. What now, Dont'cha want to know where you are? 'Cause it sure as hell ain't Kansas." John recomposed himself as a furry of emotions and thoughts passed through Sam's head. John always admired that bout his youngest. Unlike Dean and himself, Sam had an ask questions first, shoot later policy once he got thinking.

"I'm – I, " Sam closed his eyes to focus, trying to get into the past. First a quick flash of Dean's bloody face as he leaned up against the impala for support as Lucifer continually punched his raw skin. He grasped his head as it throbbed the same pulse as when he had premonitions. Then a flash of him as Lucifer and Adam as Michael falling into the pit as his spirit filled contentment, followed by Death lingering over his body as he held a light orb.

He looked towards John again as things became clearer. Realization dawned towards him.

"I'm dead."

Death was the only outcome that Sam could think of. Everything around him were signs that he was dead. His dead father, the last thing he saw was Death with his soul, and the memories of Castiel telling Dean that his body could not survive his torn soul were all pointing towards his death.

Peace. Peace came with death. The war against Heaven and Hell ceased to matter. His guilt for Jessica's death ceased to consume his mind. The anger towards himself for trusting Ruby over his brother disappeared like the scares he had gathered over the years. This is what every life led to; death.

The horrifying word which became taboo between him and Dean had lost it's potency now that he knew the truth. He'd be with Dean again, the time would come. He could see Jessica, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Andy, and mom. He could finally see her movement and love, see if his dreams had created her in the correct image to be directed completely at him.

Sam looked up towards his dad, knowing that the afterlife could play no tricks. He smiled finally accepting what destiny had given him. However his father looked at him with eyes full of sorrow which seemed so foreign on his fathers body.

Confusion struck. His father was in Hell. Fear took over his emotions. He was in Hell. The Presidential suite, none the less, but he was in Hell, and he knew that his soul deserved it. His neck began to twist back against itself in an unnatural form.

"Sam. Stop!" His father called out to him in a firm authoritative voice that he remembered from his childhood. His neck ceased to twist, but fear still flowed through his body. "Come on kid, untwist yourself. Exactly like how you got yourself there in the first place. Everything is fine. Come on now." Sam inhaled deeply as he felt himself form to a natural stance. Sam's eyes locked with John's begging for answers to everything.

"Your not in Hell son. Nope, not in Heaven either." John quickly added remembering the same the flicker of emotions behind his son as he had when he was told he wasn't in Hell anymore. "You can't see Jessica, or – or your mother. We're in purgatory."

Sam opened his eyes to the room around him. The bland simple chairs and couch faded away as if they never existed. Blindness seemed to over come his senses as the once colorful walls blended together into purity. He turned his attention towards his father as he hoped for one last glance at the father which he once denounced.

"I'll see you again Sammy. Once your soul is healed." John said with the last moments they had in his own way saying goodbye to his youngest. John knew Sammy's soul would not heal. That is what happens to a man who has lost his ticket to Heaven and is unwelcomed in Hell. He resides the rest of eternity in purgatory, a mindless abyss without any doors or windows.

* * *

Author's Note: So, I just left Sam in purgatory. Not where I was planning to go with this story, but acceptable. I know I am going to get something about Purgatory and it being incorrect. Half way through the story I decided to do some research and was like "woah, that doesn't work anymore," so that is why it came out so depressing. I have plans to modify this idea into a chapter story, so give me your ideas if you want to see them pop up. I'm always looking for what you guys want to hear, and of course, if you liked it.

This is my first FanFiction in a long time, so I really want your Flame, good or bad.

Raend~


End file.
